


The Light

by GhostlyNight



Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Horror, Mixture of 5th and 6th Age Gielinor, Other characters feature in this story but to tag them would be a spoiler, Our protagonist is secretly part moth, That boy loves one light, The wilderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyNight/pseuds/GhostlyNight
Summary: A young family moves to Edgeville, and with it their son's life is changed forever when he stares out into the Wilderness one night and sees something in the distance.
Kudos: 7





	The Light

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Clan Quest Horror Story competition! 
> 
> TW: Mental illness, Death.

When I was a kid we moved to Edgeville. We hadn’t moved all that far as I could still make a trip to visit my friends and family in Lumbridge, but it was easier for Dad to move closer for his work. He was a stock broker at the Grand Exchange, nothing too fancy, but as long as one person owned something someone else wanted there was always going to be trade. The house we moved to was old and somewhat rickety, on windy days you could hear the house creak and groan from the stress the wind put it under. But I loved that old house. My bedroom was the top most room; we didn’t bring all that many belongings with us so we didn’t have need of the attic, so after some strategic guilt tripping and a hundred annoying “Please Mum please!”’’s I moved into arguably the best room in all the house.

Living in that bedroom made me feel like a _king_ ; it was larger than any room in the house, none of my friends slept in _their_ attics so that made me pretty cool, and best of all it had a round window facing north. There was nothing for miles beyond that window, and at night time you got the most perfect view of the stars. Dad sat up with me once and pointed out different constellations like Pisces, Phoenix, and the King Worm. I think he made that last one up in truth; I’ve never been able to spot it again since that night.

It was on my third night at our new home I saw something else outside the window though, out into the nothingness of the night; A dot on the horizon. Flickering and faint, it was a gentle blue hue ebbing and flowing to some unheard beat. I couldn’t put my finger on the reason why, but I felt compelled to find it. The thready pulse in which the dot shimmered in the distance was like a siren’s song, never in my 12 years of life had I needed something so _badly_. As if in a trance I started climbing down the stairs bare foot and only dressed in moth eaten pyjamas, not bothering to grab even a lantern for my journey into the void of night, only to feel a strong hand grab me by the shoulder and whirl me around as I was reaching out for the front door.

My Mother had been in the living room nursing my baby sister when she heard me slowly descending the stairs. I don’t remember a lot about that night, only that my Mother said I had acted like I had been possessed; I was silent, eyes set straight ahead looking straight through her, unaware of the terrible chill throughout the house. I wasn’t on the same plane of existence as her, I was elsewhere. I was with the dot in the distance.

The next day was different. My parents were concerned about what had happened the night before and had considered sending for a doctor, but I bounced back immediately and looked the picture of health. Between being mentally present and bouncing off the walls from being confined to the house, my parents decided to keep an eye on me as a precursor to anything more drastic. For all they knew it could have been a one off event brought on by the stress of moving. Besides, I don’t know what a doctor could have done. My parents would have had a better shot asking one of the Brothers from the monastery west of us to perform an exorcism, but who knows what that would have accomplished?

The rest of my day was spent exploring my new home of Edgeville and getting to know my new neighbours. Mum paraded me around from door to door to say hello and introduce ourselves because Mum said that was the _polite thing to do_. It was the exceedingly boring thing to do in my opinion; I’m not sure why she needed me to come with her. Maybe she wanted to keep an eye on me after the night before, make sure I had constant adult supervision in case I went a bit funny again. It wasn’t all for nothing, however, as Mum made me introduce myself to the guards in case I ever needed help. It wasn’t necessarily the guards who were so interesting, but rather the woman they in turn introduced us to; Gjalp.

Gjalp, we learned, was a beacon keeper; one of 12 guardians who kept a look out for danger out into the nothingness. She would light her beacon if she spotted a threat on the horizon to notify her fellow guardians about it, or if she could see that a beacon either side of her had been lit. It was good to know there was a system in place to protect us from the nothingness, but at that point I didn’t know what the nothingness _was_. Gjalp was quick to educate me on the history of the barren lands before us, the Wilderness she called it, and why I should _never_ step foot across that wall if I wanted to live. I could feel Mum’s hand on my shoulder tense as Gjalp described the horrors that lay beyond the wall, and as we said our goodbyes Mum’s voice seemed strained and more forced than it had before.

I remember that night I could hear a lot of whispered arguing from my parent’s room, the walls and floorboards thin enough that I could make out bits of what they were arguing about; Me, mostly. I gave up listening to them going around and round in circles maybe 10 minutes in and instead sat by the window and looked out into the night. It was a clear night and I had a full view of the stars, gently twinkling as they had done for millennia. But amongst the twinkling I saw it; the dot. I sat there mesmerised, feeling a sense of calmness wash over me as I admired the light amongst the darkness. I didn’t feel the same need as I had before to join it, to move out beyond the wall and into the night to find what felt like a part of me I hadn’t known was missing until now. I don’t know how long I must have sat there looking out the window, but the sound of my Father’s footsteps broke me from my reverie as he entered the room to wish me goodnight.

This became a nightly ritual for me, to spend hours before retiring to bed watching the dot in the distance. I can’t explain it but I felt a need to keep my near worship of this night time phenomena a secret from my parents, as if they would try to keep the two of us apart. Us, I feel was an accurate description of the light and I. It was alive. I could feel it searing within my heart and my soul, a constant presence that demanded my undivided attention at all times. To me it wasn’t some mere light, no; it was very much like a living being, although I couldn’t say what it was if it wasn’t a luminescent.

I recall visiting the palace library to try research what the light could have been but I didn’t have much luck finding anything. The librarian, Reldo, he was beyond helpful in my attempt to discover the true nature of my dear light. In fact, he was the only person I had ever told about the light other than my parents and he too was intrigued and puzzled by what could be out in the wilderness calling to me. Reldo was of the opinion that going back further still in history may provide some answers, providing me with texts describing the rich history of the city once known as Forinthry and its fate at the hands of the gods.

While I hadn’t unearthed anything of use to my personal research project, I came to value the information I _had_ gained from my excursions to the library. I learnt then of the danger the gods once posed to us, of how they affected our ways of life for better or for worse. I was still just a child but a deep rooted disapproval of the death and destruction bubbled within me, and I came to look at what was once a mysterious barren land that I looked out to every night with sorrow. But the glint of my dot helped to soothe such pains, reassured me there were still good things in the world.

As I grew older I expanded on my reading under Reldo’s tutelage, eager for the knowledge of the world around me from eras long gone. Books such as journals of soldiers stationed around Forinthry were eagerly passed into my hands by Reldo, as well as more obscure tomes such as the Divine Delusion, Grimoires, and texts that had no good reason being in the possession of a good natured fellow such as the Varrockian Librarian considering their dark nature. Reldo always gave me this knowing look and would blithely smile and say that all knowledge was good knowledge, even if you couldn’t see a reason for you to know it at first.

I spend much less time visiting my friend at the palace these days; as soon as I turned 16 my Father put me to work and got a job for me delivering important paper work from the Grand Exchange to its various branches and banks from Varrock, to Lumbridge, to even as far as Ardougne. It’s not a bad job, it’s given me lots of opportunities to travel and new experiences I likely would never have gotten if I’d stayed put in Edgeville. But even now when I travel far enough that I have to spend the night away from home, I feel an ache within my heart. They say home is where the heart is, but in truth my heart resides depths within the Wilderness.

It was hard at first to part from the dot, but it’s gotten easier with practice. My parents were so pleased to see me going out into the world and relieved in part too. I think they know about my active fascination of the light despite my best attempts to hide it from them, so with every step I take away from Edgeville the more relaxed they become. Most parents would feel the opposite I imagine, but then again I don’t suppose their children live a few feet away from the Wilderness.

My sister Libby is five now, it’s amazing how time flies. My parents watch her like a hawk and keep her as far away from the wall to the Wilderness as possible. They have forbidden me from _ever_ telling her about the light, too frightened that she too might connect with it in the same way I did all those years ago. A part of me feels insulted by my parents, but not for suggesting I might put Libby in harm’s way. It’s terrible, but a part of me feels like nobody will ever be able to connect with the dot like I have, and in fact that part of me feels possessive about our connection as if no one could ever truly understand. Silly, isn’t it?

I’m currently home on bed rest right now; I’m not expected to be travelling any time soon. I can feel my parent’s stares burning into me; like they’re afraid I might snap. Libby’s only allowed to see me if one of our parents are present, she doesn’t understand why she can’t see me and I can’t tell her why for fear my parents won’t let me see her again. She was in my room this morning and asked why my hands were so heavily bandaged, and I could feel my Mother giving me the most intense look even as I was facing Libby, as if she was daring me to tell her the truth. I ended up telling Libby I’d had an oopsy at work and I had to come home for a bit. That seemed to satisfy both her and my Mother, but the truth is a tad bit more complicated than that.

Just over a month ago I’d been sent on a job to Ardougne’s bank, nothing terribly difficult work wise, but once my contracted job had been completed I’d been offered another job to do on my way back to Varrock; The Legends Guild has its own private bank branch for its members, and as such a certain amount of discretion is required. What a guild member might want the bank to hold onto for them would typically be different from the average citizen. For example, one member known as ‘The Raptor’ has a section of his bank dedicated to trophies from his many various kills, while another member known as Ozan has, shall we say, possessions one might believe to be less than legal or in actual fact be belonging to another person. But you didn’t hear that from me!

With this in mind, a certain level of trust has to be in place to continue such a tentative relationship between the bank and these customers, so the bank keeps important customer documents off site from the guild branch. This is to prevent sensitive details being stolen or leaked should anyone nefarious come after a guild member. It simply wouldn’t do for a hero to go off gallivanting around the world saving the day only to come home and be ambushed because one of their enemies discovered their address, now would it?

On this particular day the bank had asked me to drop off some legal documents to the guild branch on my trek back home, which was of no issue to me as it was only an extra ten or so minutes added to my journey so why not? I’d never been to the Legends Guild before and was excited to possibly meet some of the fabled heroes that protect these lands. The manager of the East Ardougne bank branch, Phillip I think his name was, recommended I take a shortcut through Manor Farm to shave five minutes off my journey and more importantly to avoid the bears that lived next to the pathway that lead to the Guild. To say there was a ‘slight bear problem’ would be an understatement. Why are there so many bears outside of Ardougne? And why is no one concerned about the dense bear population in that area? Is that part of the requirements to join the Legends Guild, be unafraid of bears?

But I digress. In order to avoid the bears I did as Phillip suggested and cut through Manor Farm, staying a good few feet north of the pathway as I crossed the grassy knoll. But as the guild began to come into view a familiar sensation came over me; the light. It was here. But how could it be? It was brilliant sunshine outside and I couldn’t see a blue hue in my periphery. But I could feel it, stronger than ever. It burned, demanded I find it. ‘Find me. Find me. Find me now’, it screamed without words. I hadn’t felt this way since I was 12, but even then the dot had never made me feel quite so manic.

Desperately I spun around looking for my dot, looking to the sky, to the trees, hell even the bears! I dropped to my knees in desperation and suddenly felt the pull of the light much more keenly. It was below. I had to find it, free my light, do anything in my power to reach it. Logic went straight out the window as I begun to dig into the ground with my bare hands. I should have run back to the farm and borrowed a spade, but every second that passed was a second too long to be away from my dot.

With manic fervour I clawed at the ground, dug and screamed with the anguish of a mother separated from her child. My hands were in agony as I dug, nails broken and bloody from the unaided attempt to dig to what felt like the centre of Gielinor, my left hand even missing the nail plate on my forefinger, but still I kept on.

Suddenly there were strong arms around me, pulling me away from the pitiful hole I had created, but I resisted and lunged forward to continue my digging. Another pair of arms was around me now, and another, and suddenly I was being lifted into the air, arms bound behind my back as I kicked and thrashed in their hold. Sweat dripped down my brow as I became more unhinged, snarling and threatening whoever it was that had me to let me go or so help me I would make them regret it. And then it went black.

The Legend Guild guards had heard me scream out as I dug and were the ones to have knocked me out and gotten me away from the knoll. They’d been able to identify me as an employee of the bank and grand exchange partnership by the paperwork I’d be carrying from the bank, and were able to get in contact with my family to let them know of the break down I’d just suffered. My family were of course horrified, and I think ashamed.

The Guild had me transported to the Seers Village for medical attention, somewhere I wouldn’t be recognised as greatly as I would have been if they’d brought me back to Ardougne. For that they have my thanks, I’m lucky to have even a single scrap of my dignity after my episode.

That was a month ago, and my parents act like they’re walking on eggshells around me. I think what has disturbed them more is what happened after I went momentarily mad; A week after I’d begun my dig in that area an archaeologist arrived and begun digging in that same spot. He’d heard from the guild about what had happened and was curious about whether or not there was something beneath the ground. I fear what he must have discovered, as whatever it was he found killed him and with it brought back the Gods.

We’re in the sixth age now, and already the Gods have begun carnage akin to that of what Reldo taught me of years ago. The so called God of Order destroyed my once home of Lumbridge in his need to battle the God of Chaos, Zamorak. I have lost friends and family to their blood lust, to their petty squabble of ‘who is the better God’? I have also lost my parents trust as they look at me with horror as they realise that I am in part responsible for this. It was I who attracted the attention of that archaeologist to the tomb of whatever terrible thing kept the Gods away from our home. If I hadn’t broken down on that spot, the world would be the same as it had been before. This is my fault, and I am so so sorry.

My parents and Libby have left to have dinner with Mrs Karloff and her son across the road, I think they wanted to get away from here and pretend for one night that things are normal and that everything’s okay. So it’s just me here in this old rickety house home alone. Me, the night sky, the twinkling stars, and the dot. I’m so tired. Ever since the Gods have returned the nature of the dot has changed. Before I could feel it calling out to me on a primal level, but lately I’ve begun to hear things, whispers more precisely. The voice of a man; softly spoken, whispering within my mind. I can’t make out what the voice is saying, but when I hear it a calming sensation washes over me and soothes the worries I have. But should I feel calm hearing a voice in head? No sane person would.

If I told my parents about the voice after last month’s performance, I fear they’d send me to an asylum never to see the light of day again, and never the light of night either. My whole life has been dominated by that light in the night sky, and while I wouldn’t change its presence in my life for the world I do admit that I need to take back my life. I stare out the window into the void of night, and the dot winks at me. I can’t take this anymore. I need this to end.

Slowly I rise to my feet, my knees still bruised from the hard dirt I kneeled upon just a month ago. I flex my hands and feel my joints and muscles protest at the action. It’s cold, but I’m barely able to feel the chill that dominates the attic. Slowly I begin to descend the stairs, once again bare foot and clad in only pyjamas, but this time there is no Mother to stop me. I dare not take a lantern for fear of being spotted by Gjalp or anything else that lurks in the dark. Quietly I leave the house and lock the door behind me, slipping my key into my shirt pocket. I can feel the grass between my toes as I edge ever closer to the wall of the Wilderness, and I hesitate. I turn my head to Mrs Karloff’s house and see the light in her house flicker. I can’t go back now; I’ll never have an opportunity like this again in my life time.

The wall is surprisingly short considering it’s meant to keep back the forces of evil, and I climb over it with ease. The path to the light seems clear; all I need to do is walk straight and with purpose. As if the things that go bump in the night won’t bother me if it sees I’m a man on a mission. As I walk into the darkness I can feel what was once was grass beneath my feet transition to something rougher, something I eventually identify as rock. I can hear creatures around me, some sound closer than others but in the darkness I couldn’t tell how accurate I was.

I should feel scared, that would be the normal reaction to walking to your own death, but the whispers grow louder and stronger as I make more progress in my journey to the light. They calm me in a way that should be impossible, they give me the resolve to find my dot, to claim it and with it claim my life back from it.

The light grows bigger and brighter as I approach, and I begin to see it is at the centre of what appears to be a large crater. As I draw nearer to the entrance of the crater I begin to hear the beat of a drum, the rhythm subconsciously making me pick up the pace to match its beat. Somehow the discovery that I’m not alone out here doesn’t fill me with dread, and as I see the owner of the drum enter my line of vision illuminated by the light of his lantern, I find myself locking eyes with the goblin musician and giving him a solemn nod which he returns.

The outline of the light is clearer now; it is in fact several smaller lights illuminating what looks like a pillar. But next to the pillar I see something else, something I don’t recognise, it looks like a hole made of pure light. I begin to enter the crater only to discover the malevolent beings within; Demons, Skeletons, Hellhounds. I have no chance in Infernus of reaching the centre of the crater, but the whispers assure me I will. I must have faith. I must believe that I can and I will reach the centre.

Hiding by the entry point, I carefully plot out a path that should allow me to get past my opposition with minimal interaction. I must have faith. I must believe I’ll succeed. I will succeed. I will. Suddenly I leap forwards, running with all the speed my twiggish legs could afford me, ducking and diving as demons throw fire balls towards me, somehow only lightly singing my hair. The Hellhounds and skeletons I pass with surprising ease as they quickly lose interest in me as I put some distance between the two of us. As I reach the centre of the crater I stop to catch my breath, and then I realise. I’m here. I’m with the light.

I tentatively walk up to the pillar, and run my hands over it. It’s made of metal, and the light seeps out of it where symbols have been engraved. The meaning of the symbols is lost on me, but I drink in the sight before me. This is my dot. The light in the night sky. Behind me I hear the whispers now, many and all at once. I don’t recognise what the whispers are, but they themselves are also dots of light, but much smaller.

As I approach them, I can hear the voice more clearly. It whispers of a war that ravaged the world, a war where no one came out the victor. It speaks of sorrow, of mourning the dead left in the wake of war. This I have come to understand myself, and I find myself empathising with the voice. The Battle of Lumbridge robbed not just _me_ of loved ones, but an _entire city_ of friends, colleagues, sweethearts, and ordinary people who lived side by side one another; People who should still be here with us if it wasn’t for the reality of war.

The voice devolves into many smaller voices now, moving with the wisps that dart about the crater. As I move among the wisps I see a smaller crater made of pure light. It looks like a hole has been ripped in the very seams of reality itself, bleeding out these wisps into the world. A lone wisp strays around my ankle and I kneel to listen to it. The voice seems strained now, as if imparting its knowledge to me is causing it pain. It speaks of a hero, of a mortal that must stand up to the gods. The voice is hoarse now, and through laboured breaths it claims if the gods are not stopped now then our world will be destroyed.

I recoil back from the light in horror as it darts off to a random part of the crater. I did this. I caused this. I look at my bandaged hands and see they are now stained with my blood, the trek through the crater having opened up healing wounds, but in my mind it is stained with the blood of others. I did this.

With a deep shuddering breath I slowly rise from the ground, and turn to face the rift. I can feel my heart beating within my chest, and with a swallow I steel myself. I walk towards the edge of the rift and stare down into it. The rift is seemingly infinite and never ending, but I can feel it teeming with raw power. This is what I could feel in Ardougne. This is what called to me. I can feel that same pull within me now, screaming at me to meld with it and become one. But this time it’s my choice. I choose this fate of my own volition. Without a second thought I step into the rift and feel myself drop.

Pain. White hot searing pain. Pain is all I can feel as the rift tears through me, destroying me and remaking me while oscillating between a state of life and death. My brain feels like it’s on fire, and the voice is screaming in agony too. Gods it hurts, my brain feels like it’s being pulled out of its skull and I can’t make it stop. I need it to stop, please god make it stop-

I am awake. How long have I been asleep now? I climb out of a hole in the ground, using all my strength to pull myself out of this cavern. The sheer effort it takes to do so taxes me and I flop on my back and look up at up at the sky. The ground beneath me is uneven and hard, and I can feel a rock sticking into my back. How long has it been since I’ve looked up at the night sky? For so long I have slumbered beneath the crust of the planet, it is a pleasure to take in the night sky and all its beauty. As I come to, I recall the reason why I haven’t seen the night sky. Suddenly I sit up. I should not be alive to see the stars once more. I should be dead.

I take in my surroundings and instantly recognise where I am. Stumbling to my feet, I hobble over to the blade of my sword that stands as a reminder the terrible impact the Gods have on the world. It towers over me, and the word ‘Behave’ illuminates the crater with its light. My reflection from the blade is difficult to see with only the light of the sword to illuminate the way, but what is clear to me is that the man in the reflection is not me; Short brown hair hangs limply by the nape of my neck, and almost translucent skin mottled with dirt and ash is bathed in the light of the stars. Suddenly a small wisp of light zips past me, and with it I hear a whisper. Another wisp darts by me but this time I’m able to make out a voice;

_“We’re in the sixth age now, and already the Gods have begun carnage akin to that of what Reldo taught me of years ago”_ the voice breathes, and as quickly as it was there the wisp disappears. Memories that are not my own flood into my mind and a deep sorrow strikes my heart. A war has already occurred since the gods have returned, have they learnt nothing in their exile?

Another wisp draws near and I kneel to its level to hear what it has to say;

_“I learnt then of the danger the gods once posed to us, of how they affected our ways of life for better or for worse. I was still just a child but a deep rooted disapproval of the death and destruction bubbled within me”._

As I listen to the wisp I recall myself thinking these very words, of having made this discovery only a short while ago as a child despite having been deep in slumber when this occurred. This isn’t right. That wasn’t me. But it was. The memories hit me harder now, and my own past melds with the memories of a life I did not live.

I remember a mother and a father who I love but feel suffocated by. I remember a little sister who I love with all my heart, I remember her cherubic smile when I return from a long journey away and how pleased she is to see me. I remember the smell of dusty books, of a mentor and friend making new recommendations of books I should read to further my education. All of this I remember with crystal clarity, but this isn’t my life. These memories aren’t mine. I’m lost, I cannot understand how I am alive after I remember dying nor can I explain how I can recall living a life that overlaps with my own.

As I ruminate on this paradox a small wisp approaches me, and almost beckons me to listen to it. Despite its weak appearance, the voice of the wisp is the clearest of all I have heard tonight;

_“Books such as journals of soldiers stationed around Forinthry were eagerly passed into my hands by Reldo, as well as more obscure tomes such as the Divine Delusion”._

The Divine Delusion. I know of this book. Written by one of Saradomin’s Terran Magisters several Ages ago, it was a book I took great interest in despite the ethical implications of the research behind it. The soul of all living beings is a mystery largely unsolved, but what this Magister seemed to imply through his investigation was that the soul was a tangible thing that could be harmed and could be healed, and with enough research could in theory be transferred to the body of another.

And with this memory everything falls into place.

I drop to the ground filled with grief for a person I never knew, and howl at the sky with anguish. He was just a child, drawn by the anima of a being he had grown up surrounded by nearly all his life. And now he is gone and all that remains of him is the fragments of his soul that were ripped to shreds by the rift to make way for a more powerful being.

I have done much in my long life to prevent the Gods from taking even one more life, but once more I have gone against my own teachings and disturbed the balance of the world.

His name was William, a boy of seventeen years; he had only just begun to live.

My name is Guthix, somehow alive on stolen time, and I have _much_ to answer for.


End file.
